


You are my Sunshine

by breaththatwalks



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Asexual Sam Wilson, Bisexual Natasha Romanov, Bisexual Steve Rogers, F/M, Florist Bucky, M/M, Natasha has kids, Tattoo Artist Steve, tony is a bit of a douche
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 11:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2579237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breaththatwalks/pseuds/breaththatwalks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I couldn’t explain it properly if I tried. But it was like, like when after a long hard day you settle down with an old movie or book, something you could recite word for word. Like being at home. Real home, where you feel safe and happy and warm. He looked like that. And right then I knew I could spend my life with this guy. Grow old, fall in love."</p>
<p>Steve is a punk rock tattoo artist living in New York and Bucky is the florist next door. With Natasha, Clint and Sam's help, romance can't help but bloom between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys so this work is not actually mine, this was written by a friend of mine who doesn't have an account but wanted to post it anyway. I beta'd it for her and this is her first published work so any feedback you guys have is much appreciated!!!

I didn’t look for love. I didn’t need love, I only had three things, my bike, maybe 2000$ that my uncle insisted was “the last time I give you money” and an art school degree.

The day I decided I’d go to this mixer thing my uncle sent me an email about was the start of that change.

It was kind of an “entrepreneurial get together” thing he thought I’d have fun at. We met in this little business lot between a florists and a hair salon. Real hole in the wall. Not enough room for all of us, so it was only by chance I managed to get in. Up on the roof they had drinks and a raffle basket. I had budgeted 20$ for petty spending this month before I really needed a job so I wandered over to the raffle to see what I could win.

“The winner of this raffle gets the rent for this building paid by us for one year, courtesy of Stark Industries”

One year. One year could do a lot. I could open a little store, make some money and hopefully by the end of the year I would have enough to keep the place open. But what can I sell? Books? Groceries?

Art. At least, a kind of art. Maybe I wasn’t good enough for this place to be a gallery but I could sell another kind of art.

Tattoos. I had steady hands and with the money my uncle lent me I could buy supplies until I got off the ground. Maybe not the most popular art form but I could pull it off.

Provided, of course, that I won the raffle.

So I saunter over, trying not to look like my entire future is hinged on wining this raffle. I enter my name, pay the few dollar fee and wait for the draw. During the wait I talk to some people, real interesting folks. A twenty year old millionaire says he got his start at a party just like this one. His grandmother says she did all of the work and he moseyed in to take the credit. This one girl owns the florist next door, says she just hired a new guy.

“He’s a sweet guy but never stops moping around. I hope he cheers up for the customers because nothing loses business like a sad florist.”

I agreed with her and wandered off. I thought about lots of things that night, sad florists, credit, and who I could talk to about starting a business. A few hours after I enter my name I hear glasses clinking. The kind of thing people do at weddings for speeches.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending this event, sponsored by Stark industries. We have set up a raffle for one enterprising businessman, or businesswoman, to start a business right here in the heart of New York City.”

He motioned to a waiter, who brought the raffle drum over and stared to spin it. Reaching over, Tony Stark grabbed a ticket out of the drum and read it aloud,

“Steven Rogers. Congratulations, you have won the use of this building for one year. You may do anything within it provided it is legal.”

I was shocked, completely flabbergasted but I forced myself to go up and shake his hand. He had warm hands and a steady grip. I looked into his eyes and they were chocolate brown, kind.

“Thank you for this honor. I will put my year to good use.” I said. Wishing for an escape from the lights and this mans’ gaze I hurried off the stage, down the stairs and into the dark of the basement.

Well, that went well. I thought to myself. _Got a shop, I guess tomorrow I’ll go buy supplies. Assuming this Tony guy was legit and not trying to cheat me. I’ll find out soon_.

I went home, to my tiny, shoebox apartment, and fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning I was awakened by my phone ringing off the hook. _Who the hell is calling at 5:30 in the morning? I don’t even have friends in this city_.

“Hello?” I picked up the phone.

“Is this Steven Rogers?” It was the man from yesterday, Tony.

“Steve, just Steve. And yes this is him.”

“You didn’t leave a number yesterday. Do you still want the building or?” He sounded confused and vaguely concerned.

“Huh? Oh, yes that. Um I do still want the building. Is there a deed I need to sign or…?”

“Uh, no. The building is still technically property of Stark Industries. We just need to know what kind of business you will be running and if you need any start-up funds.”

“I have some money left from my uncle so I think I will have enough. I will be running a tattoo shop. Is there a date that I can move my stuff in or?”

“You can move your stuff in today if you would like. Are you quite sure you have enough funds because I could loan you some until you make a profit.”

“I should be fine thanks though. Is it okay is I show up at 2:30 to move in my stuff?”

“That should be fine. Do you remember the address?”

“Yes thank you.”

A moment of awkwardness passed. Neither of us too sure of what to say.

“I will see you then, Mr. Stark.”

“Um, goodbye then.”

He hung up and I stared at the phone for a moment. _There goes one awkward conversation for the day_. Now I had to explain to my uncle that I was starting a tattoo shop. In New York.

He was going to _murder_ me.

I got on my bike and drove to my uncles’ office. He works for homeland security or  
something and I’m not supposed to visit him while he’s working. But I needed to waste 7 hours and he was the right person.

“Hey Maria,” I said as I entered the building. Maria wasn’t the receptionist but she was always hanging around at the entrance to the building. My uncle was always complaining about her “not doing her job” but I knew that she told him every time someone entered or left the building.

“Hi Steve, going to visit Fury?”

“Yeah. He keeps complaining I never visit and it’s starting to bug me.”

“Go on up, I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”

I hopped in the elevator and rode up. Thinking about the time I got attacked in an elevator. My asthma was acting up and I hadn’t been aware of this guy trying to pickpocket me. Upon noticing I punched him in the face and him and his buddies attacked me. I got out okay but I felt bad because I broke the guys jaw.

The elevator dinged and I stepped out into my uncles’ office. One wall was completely glass, bullet proof of course, and offered a great view of the Manhattan skyline. His desk was situated in the middle with his back to the windows. My uncle sat up, cracking his knuckles and walked over to greet me.

Now I should explain, my father was killed while I was very little and my mother died not to long after that. I spent most of my life in foster care, but one time, after running away and being picked up by the cops, Officer Nicholas J. Fury thought I had a “fighting spirit” and decided to take me in. I flat-out refused to call him dad so we settled at uncle. He didn’t make the best parental figure so I had a rough childhood of fighting in alleyways and smoking on street corners. He never hit me, never yelled at me and never let me forget who was in charge. I stayed clean, mostly and he helped me through some rough patches with drugs and law trouble. He let me do whatever I wanted with my body and only criticized when he was stressed. My first tattoo, he was there and helped me through the pain, later remarking that he “always knew I was strong”. Not one I did bugged him except for the hair. Over the 18 years we were together I had never let my hair be the same colour or style for more than a month. He hated it.

“I see you’ve done that god awful shaved-on-the-sides style all the “hip kids” have.”

“Nice to see you too uncle.”

“How’ve you been boy? Any law trouble? Any new body modifications I should know about? Have you gotten a job yet? I’m not going to lend you money forever.”

“I’m fine, no legal trouble, I got the cast off since last time you saw me and as a matter of fact I do have a job.”

He paused, reading my expression with his keen eye.

“Did that Stark boy get you a building?”

“Um, yes he did”

His expression remained unreadable. Finally he asked the question.

“What are you selling?”

I paused, knowing he wouldn’t approve.

“Well, you know I have that art school degree,” he remained unimpressed, “I’m going to be a tattoo artist.”

“You enjoy that. You have fun, boy” He chuckled darkly, “Don’t let that Anthony get into your head.”

“I won’t. Okay uncle, I have to go but I’ll visit again soon.”

He was still chuckling, “Goodbye boy, you visit soon.”

I left, unsure of why he was laughing, but I had places to be. I still technically had a few hours until I was meeting Tony but I had to have stuff to move in right? I had done some research last night and managed to get some tattoo supplies online with overnight express shipping. I got home just as they arrived and I thanked the deliveryman. He looked a bit startled by me thanking him but I assume it was the earrings I had in.

I burned the remaining hours by watching Disney movies on my laptop. At 1:45 I grabbed my box of supplies and hopped on my bike to get to my future studio. The ride was boring and traffic was hell, but using a few lesser-known shortcuts I managed to get to the building about ten minutes early. I ducked into the alleyway next to the florist and had a cigarette. Now, I know that with asthma I’m not supposed to smoke and my uncle had made it clear that if he caught me smoking again I’d be cut off for a while. But I use my inhaler all the time when I need it and I figure that if anything’s going to kill me it’ll be a shadowy figure in an alley, not me smoking in one.

At 2:30 I walked out of the alley and straight into some long-haired hipster with glasses and a pastel sweater.

“Watch where you’re going man.” I said off-handedly.

He walked away and I noticed Tony looking at my bike with some concern.  
“Hiya Tony. Is there something wrong with my bike?”

“Huh? Oh, no.”

“O-o-o-kay then. When do I get to move my stuff in?”

“What stuff? You call that little box your ‘stuff’?”

“Is it not enough or something?”

“Oh honey sweetie baby. Stevie darling, did I not mention that the building can be whatever you want it to be?”

“Please never call me any of those names again.”

He continued as if he hadn’t heard me. “I’m assuming you would want to live above your shop to prevent break-ins and the like. Also all of these materials are unsanitary and outdated. Did you even research what it takes to own a tattoo shop?”

“Well… no,” I admitted, I had interned at one to help me through college but I mostly flirted with the customers and smoked during my breaks. “Did you?”

“Of course! What else was I going to do overnight?”

“Sleep maybe? Like a normal human being.”

He looked momentarily disconcerted but then laughed, “What’s the fun in that? So do you want me to help you get moved in or should I give the building to another suitor?”

I decided the former was best, and trying to avoid the mention of the word "suitor", we got in his car to drive my apartment. I drove and he talked on his phone the entire time. When we arrived there was a small army of moving vans in front of my apartment building.

“So how much stuff do you have? Should I call more vans?”

He sounded genuinely concerned and I was thankful at least. “No I’ll probably need one, maybe two of those.”

“Do you live in a shoebox?” He took my confused silence as a yes, “So, I don’t normally do this but because you’ve got the baby blue eyes thing going on I’m going to buy you all new stuff for the new apartment. No strings attached, just for a friend.”

“You have known me for less than one day.”

“And now we are friends. Do you want free furniture or not?”

I reluctantly agreed and let him drag me all over New York to buy furniture. By the end of the day I had what Tony called “simple, yet chic” appliances, a pullout couch, a coffee table, and a smallish flat screen TV. I kept my bed, bookshelf, and laptop form the old apartment but I let Tony sell the other stuff. As Tony helped me drag the stuff up into my new apartment we talked a bit but nothing was really said.

“So tomorrow I signed you up for a basic first aid course and sometime next week you have a seminar to get your business license and be legally allowed to own a tattoo shop.”

“Wow, thanks Tony. When I get up and running you can have a free tattoo!”

“Haha, thanks but no thanks. I already have all the tattoos I want.”

Seeing my confused look, he ripped his shirt off and motioned to his chest. Silver concentric circles with blue in the middle. I stared for a few minutes.

“It, ah, glows under black light. You should see some time.”

“Thanks I, uh, I will.”

Before anything more could be said he leaned forward and kissed me. Not a long kiss but surprising nonetheless.

“Uh, have fun at first aid training.” He managed awkwardly before darting out the door.

*

The entire next day I was preoccupied. After finishing the first aid course (the instructor said he had never seen anyone pick up on seizure care faster) I went to the florist next door to buy Tony some flowers. The first thing I noticed was a long-haired guy with a green apron.

“I know you!” I said, “I ran into you yesterday in the alley! Sorry, by the way.”

“Oh, yeah. Do you need help getting flowers or?”

“Flowers, right, yes. Can I get like, two dozen blue roses?”

“Sure man that’ll be 20 dollars.”

“Thanks, what’s your name by the way?”

“I’m James.”

“Hi James, I’m Steve. Nice to meet you.”

I paid for my flowers and left, thoughts of James’s careful blue eyes filling my mind.

_Dear Tony, I do like you. But in the interest of professionalism I think we should be_  
 _just friends. I hope this doesn’t affect our business and I hope to see you in once the shop gets running._  
 _~Steve_

I found the note he left on my TV with his phone number and address and biked over to his mansion.

I put the flowers on his doorstep and knocked. Quickly, before he could come out, I jumped on my bike and drove away.

About ten minutes later I was at a Starbucks, sipping a steamed milk and doing some networking. Building hype for the new store.

_Grand opening of “Stars and Stripes Tattoo Emporium” this Thursday, Nov 14, 7:00 PM. At 1335 Lexington Ave. Manhattan, New York. Bring a partner and matching tattoos are 10 percent off!_

Careful conversation at the party had taught me that people love discounts and most people wanted a matching tattoo with somebody. I decided to use this to my advantage. In a footnote I added;

_Now hiring, apply for artist and receptionist positions on location._

Thanks to my uncle I had some pretty great connections and I got the ad up and running in no time. Now all I had to do was wait.

*

Thursday, the night of the opening.

I had received a few applications and I had some potentials for artists and a great receptionist. I told them to be at the store by 6:00 to do some final checks and approve them.

Tony had called the night earlier saying that he had a previous engagement but he hoped the store was a success. I felt bad for rejecting him but as I had been told countless times, it is okay to say no.

At 5:00 I went to the florist to invite James. We had actually become quite close over the past few days, he had been great while I was at my course, making sure no one broke in to the shop and supervising the decorators when I was busy. I was surprised at how much in common we had, and at his caring but sometimes surprisingly carefree nature. He mentioned to me that I could call him “Bucky”, some version of his weirdly complicated middle name.

“Hey Bucky you coming to the opening?”

“What opening?” He grunted, lifting some boxes of vases. I focused on not staring at his biceps.

“The ‘Stars and Stripes Tattoo Emporium’ opening. Did you forget?”

“Oh that. I didn’t forget sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind. And I can’t make it, I’m pulling the late shift because of all the births today. Nine months after Valentines.”

“Oh, that’s um, interesting? Sorry you can’t make it.”

I bought some flowers to make him smile and spent a few minutes tucking one into his hair.

“Have fun with all the new parents.” I said, smiling, before walking out the door and over to my shop.

At 6:00 exactly I heard the door opening and ran downstairs, missing the bottom step and falling.

“Oh my god are you okay?” Cried a redheaded girl, dropping the arm of her boyfriend to run over and help me up.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve had worse.” I paused, collecting myself. “Now that I’ve made a great impression I have to say, Hi, I’m Steve, I run the shop. Are you here to apply or are you in for the couples deal?”

“What?” Asked the man who, for a second looked like a younger Uncle Fury, but with both eyes. “Oh, we’re. We’re not dating. Anymore. We’re here to do the application checks. I’m in for receptionist, “

“and I applied for artist. I’m Natasha and this is Sam.”

“Right! I thought you two had great applications I just had a few questions…”

The next hour flew by and with the addition of some other applicants who showed up I got four artists and two receptionists. I was reasonably happy with my choices and I told them to stay after the party so we could work out hours and wages.

The party was long and hot, much like the party when I won the building. I opened up the roof so people could cool off and I set up a raffle for a 20 percent off tattoo. I had to fight off a few girls intent on getting my number but they asked for no reason why I didn’t want their number and I avoided thoughts about Bucky, alone in the florists with flowers and parents-to-be.

At around 10:30 I decided I couldn’t take it anymore and I ran over to the florist to check up on Bucky.

“Hey Bucky. How’re things?” I said, hopping up on the counter

“They’re good, how’s the party?”

“Boring, you should come join us, this place is empty.”

“I can’t, if Jessie finds out I ditched early she’d kill me.”

“Then I won’t tell her. C’mon, please?”

“Sorry Steve, no.”

“Okay, whatever. Thanks for all the help while I was taking my course. If you want I can get you a free tattoo.”

“Sure, I’m sure the tattooed florist will sell plenty.”

“I got to go. Wanna kick out the kids before they get into my supplies.”

“’The kids’, Steven, you are 25.”

“Shaddup. See you later Sunshine.”

I wandered back to the party and kicked out the last few stragglers. I let a few stay to make appointments with Sam, who had accepted the job and figured out the computer with the speed of maybe Tony.

“So, Natasha. What’s up with you and flyboy over there?”

“Sam? Nothing, just friends. And you can call me Nat”

“Okay, but the ‘anymore’?”

“Yeah, we used to date but we just decided it didn’t work out. Anyway, I have to go. My boyfriend’s here.” She pointed out the window at a blond man.

“See you tomorrow then. Bye uh, Nat.”

“Bye Steve. By Sam!” She yelled as she walked out the door.

I watched her greet the man outside with a kiss and they walked down the street holding hands. The last customers walked out and I turned to Sam.

“Hey man, thanks for sticking around. I can close up though, see you tomorrow.”

“You sure? I can stick around, I have nothing better to do and Nat won’t be home for an hour at least. “

“Do you guys live together? Sorry, that’s not my business. If you wanted to stick around you could but there isn’t much left for me to do.”

“Haha no, we don’t live together I forgot my keys at her place and she got mad last time I broke into her house.”

“If you want to help clean up you can but I don’t wanna inconvenience you.”

I couldn’t fight him down so I went to the roof to clean and he cleaned up the storefront.

When I finished cleaning up I went downstairs and saw him in my apartment reading the note Tony left me.

“Sorry man, I shouldn’t have been in your apartment but I was looking for you and I saw the note. Who is Tony?”

“It’s okay I should have finished earlier. Tony technically owns the building. I can use it for whatever and live in it but Stark Industries owns it. I won the place for a year at a party.”

“Why do you need his home address and cell phone number?”

“He had a thing for me but I didn’t want it to get weird with the business.”

“Okay, sorry man.”

“No it’s okay. You should get going, Natasha will probably be wondering where you are.”

“Ah, okay. See you tomorrow then.”

“Bye Sam.”

He left. I felt bad for low-key kicking him out but I don’t like talking about Tony and I was still processing the kiss and his reaction to the flowers. He hadn’t taken it well at first. He was mad, threatening to evict me, and then sad, crying about his depression and how I could fix it. I am allowed to say no. I know that I couldn’t fix a broken heart. I’m not sure if he moved on from sad yet but I was willing to be friends with him.

*

It took five weeks. Five weeks of tattoos and angry customers and lunch break flirting. Five weeks before I decided to man up and ask Bucky out. The first day of winter, I wandered over to the florist after Bucky’s shift, bought two dozen assorted roses and asked Bucky to coffee.

It was snowing, a light sprinkle that erased the mess and bustle of New York. Leaving the world silent and still. That is, until Natasha and Sam ambushed us on our way out.  
Literally three steps out of the door, holding hands with a smart, strong, beautiful florist, nothing could ruin my mood. Except maybe a dripping ball of snow colliding with the side of my head.

I pulled my hand out of Bucky’s, laughing, and wiped my head while turning around to see Nat and Sam in the snow, laughing their asses off.

“What the hell guys?” I demanded, also laughing.

“Sorry, but you looked so cute and happy and something was missing!” Nat couldn’t stop laughing.

“Yeah, now Bucky can give you his jacket and you can both look all flustered and then he takes off his hat to give to you and you put the flowers in his hair.” Added Sam.

“You guys are so welcome!” They enthused.

“I, uh, totally didn’t have that in mind.” Bucky muttered. “Of course, I was going to be the one throwing snowballs. Oh well!”

He bent over and made a snowball, throwing it at Sam and quickly making another to send at Nat. This quickly degenerated into us all rolling around in the snow, disturbing the peace with our raucous laughter.

“Would the punks having a fight in the streets please shut up, we are trying to watch the new Disney movie!”

“There’s a new Disney movie?” I yelled back.

They didn’t answer so I turned to Nat and the boys, “Should we?”

“Yes!” They all yelled.

“Okay!” I yelled back.

We ran up, through the shop, into my apartment. Jostling for room on the couch, I pulled out my old laptop and searched for it online.

“Found it! Apparently it’s called ‘Frozen’.”

I connected my laptop to the TV and pressed play. Bucky cuddled up beside me and Nat rested her head on my shoulder, stretched out over Sam and the armrest.

About halfway through the movie I paused it and asked, “Does anyone want pizza?”

The twin yells and Sam's "Who DOESN'T want pizza?!?" were answer enough.

So I got up and ordered pizza. When I got back Nat was on Sam’s lap and both were intently listening to Bucky talking about his past and his family and how he met me.

“- and then this punk walks out of the alley and crashes into me, he smells like stale cigarettes and rude as hell just goes, “Watch where you’re going man.’ So I’m just like, what a douche. Then the next day he walks into the shop, all sweet with his “Hey I know you!’, ‘Can I get a dozen blue roses?’” He mimics my voice, first rough and distracted, then enthusiastic, like a small child.

“I do not sound like that!” I remarked indignantly, dropping on to the couch. “And the pizza will be here in 20 minutes.”

“Sorry, Steve.” Bucky replied, his grin showing me he wasn't sorry in the slightest.

I hated that grin. It made it really hard not to kiss him.

“What kind of pizza?” Natasha piped up, “And is it okay if I invite Clint? He gets lonely when it snows.”

“Sure he can come. I mean, I don’t know him that well but if you guys are okay with it.”

“I like Clint, don’t worry he’s nice.” Sam remarked.

“He can come.” Bucky said. He looked a bit nervous, which surprised me, but I wasn’t going to bring it up in front of Sam and Nat.

“Okay then, he’ll be here sometime before the pizza.”

“Should we wait for him or keep watching the movie?”

“Just keep going, I can fill him in when he gets here.”

The movie played, and I tried to ignore Nat falling asleep literally on Sam’s lap. We heard Clint ringing the doorbell downstairs, so I told Nat to go downstairs and asked Bucky to come into the kitchen with me.

“You okay? You looked pretty startled when Nat asked if Clint could come over.”

“Yeah I just, -” He couldn’t meet my eyes.

“Bucky, look at me.” I grabbed his hand and forced him to look at me.

“When I came out to my family, they didn’t take it well. I mean, it was 2003 and it’s legal to kick out your fourteen year old child with no support at all because of who they are.”

He was slowly raising his voice, soon he would be at a volume level where Nat and her boys would notice.

“I mean, what the hell. I didn’t ask for this, I would give anything to be normal.”

“Bucky, you are normal. I’m normal, we’re both normal. You know what isn’t normal? Being an ass to your children.”

I really, really hate judgmental parents. Pet peeve of mine. Not just because they're annoying, but because of the damage they leave on their kids.

“Steve, I-“

“It’s okay.”

I opened my arms and he fell into them, crying.

“And you know Clint would be okay with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t Nat tell you? She's bi too.”

“Wha-?”

“Yeah. And Sam’s ace.” The look on his face gave me life. “God, Bucky, didn’t anyone tell you? Don’t worry, Nat wouldn’t date a bigot.”

He couldn’t stop himself from crying, tears of relief streaming down his face.

“Do you wanna go watch the movie?” He shook his head.

“Okay, I’ll tell Nat to play the movie and I’ll stay with you until you’re ready.”

“You, you don’t have to wait with me.” He was sniffling now.

“No, it’s okay Buck. We can always watch it together later.”

A few minutes later he told me that we could go out now so I grabbed his hand and led him to the couch.

“What did we miss?”

“Elsa attacked Anna and now she’s freezing to death.” Sam replied, ignoring Clint and Nat quietly making out next to him.

“Elsa’s freezing to death?”

“No, Anna is.”  
“Oh, okay. Remind me to never miss parts of disney movies again.”

*

I don’t remember falling asleep. The next thing I recalled was waking up to a screaming alarm clock, Bucky’s head on my shoulder and his fingers entangled with mine.

“What time is it?” Nat asked sleepily, lifting her head off Clint’s. “HOLY SHIT.” she yelled, seeing the clock.

“I KNOW.” I yelled back.

“BUCKY YOU HAVE TO GO. CLINT YOU TOO.”

“WHY IS EVERYONE YELLING? OH, HOLY SHIT” Bucky asked, now awake.

“BUCKY AND CLINT, LEAVE. SAM, NAT, AND I WILL TAKE SHOWERS AND OPEN THE  
STORE. LOVELY PARTY YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME. BUCKY ARE WE STILL ON FOR TONIGHT?” I screeched from the bathroom.

“YES OF COURSE SEE YOU LATER.”

Ten minutes later, showered, dressed and looking reasonably awake Sam, Nat, and I opened the store.

“Okay, the artists-in-training should be here in a few minutes, I’ll take care of them,

Sam you man the counter, like always. Nat, even if they call you, ‘dollface’ or, ‘sexy’ you are NOT allowed to make their tattoo say ‘asshole’.”

“Stevie darling, that was one time.”

Memories of Tony saying the exact same thing flashed though my head.

“Natasha. Never, EVER, call me Stevie darling.”

I think she got that she hit a sore spot because she backed off immediately

“Okay, sorry.”

Slightly shaken by the whole thing, I left as quickly as possible, plastering on a smile for the new artists.

“Okay guys, who’s ready to become a tattoo artist!” I said, trying to be upbeat.

“All of us, why do you think we’re here.” This asshole in the back of the room remarked.

“Great! Let’s get started.”

I started them on needle technique and separated them by their art styles. It worked pretty well and I was feeling good by the end of the day.

At 9:30, the end of Bucky’s shift I asked Nat and Clint, who was visiting, to close up, and then I walked over to the florist.

“Hey Jessie. Is Bucky still here?”

“Yeah, He’s just finishing up in the back. Do you want me to get him for you? He told me that you guys were going on a double date! I hope you two have some very pretty girls to match.”

“Uh, thanks Jessie, but Bucky and I aren’t going on a double date.”

“What? I thought you two were?”

I noticed Bucky emerge from the back room and recalled what he said about his family.

“Haha no, we were actually going to um, volunteer at the animal shelter. We do it every Wednesday.”

“Oh that’s cool! I wonder what he was talking about?”

“Damn it!” I yelled, smacking my forehead “The double date is tomorrow. I remember he told me about that but it just slipped my mind.” I waved my hand in a “silly me” gesture.

“Hey Steve!” Bucky said, surprising Jessie who hadn’t noticed him out of the back room.

“Hi Bucky! Ready to volunteer at the shelter?” I asked

“Of course I am! See you after Christmas, Jessie” He said, walking out of the store  
“You haven’t told her have you?” I asked as soon as we left the building, turning to face him full on.

“Not yet, I’m sorry Steve. I was going to but I just-“ He ran a hand over his face.

“Hey, it’s okay. I won’t say anything until you’re ready. Anyway,” I pulled him in for a kiss. “I’m kinda enjoying having you all for myself.”

“Well,” _He’s so cute when he’s flustered_ “I was wondering, since we aren’t actually going to volunteer at the animal shelter, what did you have planned?”

“I was thinking coffee. But Tony never mentioned I couldn’t have a pet.”

“Steve, no.”

“Calm down, Sunshine, I was joking. Who has the best coffee?”

“There’s this little place down the street a bit, reminds me of your shop. I think you’ll love it.”

“Let’s go.”

"Don't you mean . . . Let it go?"

"STEVE QUOTE THAT MOVIE AGAIN AND I WILL STAB YOU WITH A RUSTY SPOON."

"Yes yes, Sunshine."

We wandered around New York, hand in hand. Bucky occasionally making comments like “I think it’s a left here” Until we were hopelessly lost.

“Oh there it is!” He shouted, dragging me along with him.

Once inside, he was greeted by a chorus of cheers along with a few “Hi Bucky!”’s.

“Come here often?” I said, a hopeless attempt at flirting.

“Yeah, I used to come here when I was,” His expression darkened. “Back in the ‘good old days’, now a lot of them are like family.” I was dragged into a whirlwind of greeting and introductions until I made it to the owner.

“So you’re that punk my Bucky’s been hanging around.”

“Um, yes sir.”

“You treat him good? Not like his rat parents?”

“Of course sir.”

“Then cut the “sirs” I’m Joe, everyone calls me Joe.”

“Oh, thanks Joe. So, uh, how do you know Bucky?”

“How much as he told you? BUCKY WHAT’VE YOU BEEN TELLING THE GUY?” He yelled  
over his shoulder. Bucky, talking to some teenage girls, didn’t seem to notice. He also didn't notice the appraising looks they gave him. It's the hipster thing, I swear.

“Anyway, I assume you know about his parents and their, unfortunate, decision. Well, I used to run a youth shelter for the queer kids, me being kicked out myself. Around late 90’s I decided to open a shelter. Nowadays I don’t do too much of the actual sheltering, I have several dozen homes all over New York that the kids live at, but I run this here coffee shop as a way for the kids to get something on their resumes. Now why haven’t I seen you before? You got that ‘runty queer kid with no parents’ look to you.”

“Oh, my parents died when I was little so I guess you’re right. I was shuffled around foster care for a bit then I got picked up by the cops. Ever heard of a Nicholas J. Fury?”

“I know the guy, a few years back he told me he picked up this kid. Wanted to know about childcare and discipline. I told him, ‘You let that kid run wild. Don’t kick them out. They need a family as much as you or I.’ I guess he was asking about you?”

“I guess. I suppose I have a lot to thank you for.”

“Don’t mention it boy.”

I wandered over to Bucky, who had found us an empty table.

“Wow.”

“I know right? It’s magical.”

“So everyone here is?”

“Yep.”

Bucky got this look, I couldn’t explain it properly if I tried. But it was like, like when after a long hard day you settle down with an old movie or book, something you could recite word for word. Like being at home. Real home, where you feel safe and happy and warm. He looked like that. And right then I knew I could spend my life with this guy. Grow old, fall in love. I leaned into him and he wrapped his arms around me.

*


	2. Chapter 2

We visited every time we were free. We brought Clint, Sam, and Nat. At first Clint was nervous because he thought he was the only heterosexual person there. But then he talked to this sweet group of demi-romantics and realized why he almost never felt romantic attraction. One night, Christmas Eve, he and I were sitting at our booth, chatting and I made a connection.

“You and Nat have the same necklace.”

“What? Oh, yeah we do. I bought them for her a few weeks after we started dating. She saw them in a store and, seeing the look on her face, I had to let her have them.”

“Why the arrows?”

“I’ve been doing archery since I was pretty little.”

“Cool. So, sorry if it’s too personal but how do you feel about her and Sam?”

“Oh, Sam’s fine. He and Nat used to date but, they’re just friends. I know they act all touchy-feely and have no personal space whatsoever but Nat would never cheat on me and Sam can’t keep a secret for his life.”

“Okay.”

“Hey Steve! We’re going to the Christmas tree, wanna come with us?”

It was some of the teens that worked here, they were dragging Bucky and Sam, Nat was following, laughing her ass off. I looked at Clint, always happy to go with Nat.  
I followed them outside and they raced down the street, shrieking broken fragments of carols and Holiday wishes. I snuck up on Bucky and grabbed his hand.

“What’s up Sunshine?”

“I saw you talking to Clint.”

“Yeah, just stuff about Tasha and Sam. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you for him.”

He looked shocked momentarily.

“Anyway,” I made a face. “he’s straight.”

Bucky started to laugh. He laughed so hard he couldn’t stand up.

“Come on Sunshine, do you need to me to carry you?”

Still laughing, he hopped up and I piggy-backed him the last few blocks to Rockefeller centre. When we got there I put him down and grabbed his hand. The reflection off his glasses looked like lights on the water. I snuck a kiss onto his cheek.

“What was that for?” He asked, with another kiss.

“I’m just, very happy to have friends on Christmas this year.”

He put his arm around me and we stood there, savouring the moment, until Sam started complaining he was cold.

“Come on then flyboy. We can go back to my apartment. Anyway, it’ll be faster in the morning for presents.”

“Presents?” Sam was like a child when you mentioned free things.

“Yes, you idiot. This is my first Christmas with a job and you expect me to spend it without a sleepover and gift exchange?”

We gathered up Clint and Nat, who long ago had resorted to making out in a shadowy corner.

“Come on guys, you can make out at my apartment.”

After some grumbling they agreed and we all walked back to my apartment. The day before, Bucky and I had bought and decorated a small tree which we installed in the corner of my living room. Uncle Fury had retrieved and dropped off Sam, Nat, and Clint’s bags with some clothes and their presents.

“Steve how did you get our bags?”

“My uncle brought them, please don’t ask.”

I dragged them up to the roof where I had strung up fairy lights and ornaments. Seeing the lights, Bucky had tears in his eyes.

“Steve, this is amazing. Even when I was with Joe we never had that much of a Christmas.”

“I know.” I pulled him in for a kiss and we stood for a while. Eventually Tasha coughed.

“You guys done?”

“Shut up Tasha.” I grumbled, my face burning. "You and Clint aren't any better."

“Do you guys wanna watch a movie or something?” Bucky interrupted.

“Nightmare before Christmas?” Sam proposed.

A chorus of yes’s left us in my living room, me hooking up my laptop, the others fighting over spots on the couch. I returned to the couch.

“Oh c’mon guys. Where’s my spot?”

“Right there ,Pretty boy.” Nat said, smirking while she pointed to Bucky’s lap.

“Sorry Steve, they wouldn’t let me make room for you.”

“No, that’s okay.” I said, trying to conceal my blush.

I settled in on Bucky’s lap and started the movie. About halfway through Sam fell asleep on Bucky’s shoulder. I asked if he was okay with it.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

I pretended not to notice when Clint started kissing Nat’s neck but I had to put my foot down when they asked to use the bedroom.

“No. Guys, it is Christmas and we are watching a movie.”

“Fine.”

Bucky wasn’t able to watch the end of the movie because he got scared easily so I tried not to smile too widely when he hid his head in the shoulder for the climax. After the movie ended I woke up Sam and we started chatting. Somehow we got to talking about truth or dare.

“I’ve never played.” I admitted.

“Me neither.” Added Bucky.

“Did you guys have no childhood or something?” Clint put in.

We both glared at him long enough for things to become uncomfortable.

“Shit, right. Anyway… You guys wanna play?”

“Sure.” I said.

“Okay, truth or dare Nat?”

“Dare, of course.”

“I dare you to give Bucky a lap dance.”

“Woah there Clint, we haven’t even broken out the alcohol.”

“Okay, do a few cartwheels, indoors.”

“That’s not hard.” She said mid-cartwheel. “Steve, truth or dare?”

“Um, truth.”

“Where are your tattoos?”

“Well, I’ve got one on my left calf, and another on my ribcage. I have a few on my back. And then there’s the ones on my hands but you all know those.”

“Okay now you pick someone and ask them truth or dare”

“I get the concept, idiot. Sam, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“How the hell did you decide to apply here?”

“Tasha and I needed jobs. Kids to support and stuff. So I see your ad, google you. And you look pretty cool, other than the stretchers and history of being beat up in  
alleyways. So I apply and Tasha used to work at a tattoo place so she applies too. You know the story from there.”

“Wait, kids?”

“Bucky, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Brave choice. Make out with Steve.”

Bucky laughed, looked scared for a moment, and then leaned in. At first the kiss was light, like the ones we had shared before, I saw his eyes flutter closed as the kiss started gaining in intensity. He sighed into my mouth as I cautiously probed with my tongue. He reciprocated and our tongues danced. Before long there was no me or him, there was only us. He reached up and grasped my face. I gently caressed him and he sighed a long, deep, sigh of contentment. Eventually Sam cleared his throat and I returned to reality. We pulled away, gasping for air. I planted a light kiss on his forehead and we sat down again.

“That was…” Clint started.

“Hot.” Sam and Nat finished.

“Anyway, my turn. Nat, truth or dare?” Bucky asked. As if nothing had happened.

“Um, truth.”

“Kids? I thought Sam was ace?”

“We can still have sex drives, you asshole.” Sam remarked, laughing.

“Okay, so yes, Sam and I do have kids. I was maybe, 21 when we met. And I was at that stage when I didn’t care about responsibility. All I wanted to do was go out, get drunk and have lots of wild sex. This one night I was at this single mixer downtown. He walks up with his confident attitude and snarky charm. ‘Hey Dollface, can I buy you a drink?’ he says. I laugh, who am I to turn down free alcohol? So we start talking and I just, he has so much character and I can’t help myself. We start dating and a few weeks later, well…”

She snuck a glance at Clint, who appeared to not hear any of this.

“We get the news that I’m pregnant. I start flipping out and if it weren’t for Sam I would've started running. But Sam keep me grounded. He’s got this ‘We can do anything’ attitude and I believe him. It was a rough few months and I couldn’t keep a job. So he takes all of his work, keeps us afloat for nine months. Twins. When they arrive he sticks around for a few weeks then does the ‘let’s still be friends’ thing. I expect him to jump ship but he does stay. Then I meet Clint. He took the kids thing well. They love him. This world is normal for them, two daddies, and one momma. Right now they’re almost four so I can leave them with a sitter while I work. This is the longest I’ve kept a job for, well since they came.”

“Damn.” I said. “You know, you can bring them here and they can stay in the apartment while you work.”

“No it’s okay. A tattoo shop is no place for two four year olds.”

“Okay, but it’s Christmas. You can’t leave them with a sitter. Bring them over in the  
morning, they can open presents too.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll call Kate and have her bring them over in the morning.” Clint put in. He left the room, I assumed to call Kate.

“Okay. Truth or dare, pretty boy?”

“Dare.” I replied. "And when did I become pretty boy?"

“Show us your tattoos.”

I took a deep breath. Not many people had seen all my tattoos and some were kinda personal. I removed my shirt and turned around so they could see the ones on my back. Wings extended across my shoulders and down my arms, ending at just my elbows. My first vertebrae was covered with a simple “107”. Turning around again, I displayed my ribcage, a crossed sword and yellow flower underneath the words “As you wish”. I held out my hands so they could see the intricate swirls starting at my wrists and going to my second knuckles. Lastly I pulled up my pant leg to show off my left calf, a small blue star.

Bucky coughed, a small, embarrassed sound that he made when I kissed him without warning.

It was friggin adorable.

“Truth or dare Clint?” I said, seeing him enter the room.

“Um, truth?” He answered, a little disconcerted by the sight of me shirtless.

“Would it be rude to ask how you feel about the kids?”

“I love them like they’re my own. They don’t know that I’m not their biological dad so why should we tell them now? I don’t mind you Sam.” He added. “You do get a bit close with Tasha but I don’t own her and I love her too much to mind.”

“Thanks man.” Sam said, lifting his head off of Nat’s shoulder.

“Okay flyboy, your turn. Truth or dare?” Clint asked.

“Why am I always flyboy? Dare.”

“Pick the first five things you see in Steve’s fridge and make them into a cocktail.”

“Nasty bro.” Sam left. I was putting my shirt on as he walked back in a few minutes later. “Okay, I’ve got straight vodka, milk, orange juice, tabasco, and mustard.”

He grimaced before downing it in one go.

“Aw hell man! Shit tastes rotten. Where can I gargle with acid?”

“The bathroom.” I said, pointing up the stairs to the third floor.

He ran off and I started laughing.

“I guess we can’t continue until he gets back.”

“We can pretend he asked me where my tattoos are.” Nat broke in. “Red hourglass on my left shoulder blade, and an arrow on my right side under the arm. Bucky truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Any tattoos?”

“Nope.”

“Really? I thought you’d have at least one, dating the owner of a ‘tattoo emporium’ and  
all.”

“I’ve offered but he doesn’t want one.” I said, poking Bucky repeatedly.

“Stop that!” He said, squirming away from me. “I don’t handle needles well and I can’t do pain.”

The game continued into the night, until Bucky fell asleep and started snoring, his head in my lap. I was absent-mindedly playing with his hair while Sam, Nat, and Clint divvied up the sleeping space. They decided that Clint and Tasha could have my bed with Sam on the floor. Leaving Bucky and I to share the couch. I got up and carried him to the couch, cuddling in to share the small space.

*

I woke to two small children jumping exclaiming, “Merry Christmas Uncle Steve!!!”

“Merry Christmas, um, Natalia and Bruce! When did you guys get here?” I was avoided the awkward name asking thanks to Nat mouthing them at me.

“Auntie Kate dropped us a little while ago! Momma and our daddies told us to you wake you up for presents.”

“Then let’s get to that! Wake up Bucky.” I said nudging him gently.

“Merry Christmas Pretty boy.” He said waking up with a smile and a kiss.

The kids started giggling and I couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“Who wants to open the first present?” Clint said, emerging from the bedroom in his housecoat.

“I do, I do, I do” shouted Natalia.

I handed her a present with the tag “To Natalia, from Momma.” It was one of those new  
dolls that I saw when I was out shopping. Natalia loved it. Gift giving was over quickly.  
Sam got Clint and Nat a pair of earrings each, small feathers. He got Bucky an ear cuff,  
engraved with stars and I received a stretcher with a star gem in the center. Both of the kids got a book from him. It looked like he had written them and the art style looked like Tasha’s.

Clint got Tasha a bracelet with two charms, a spider and an arrow. He got Bucky and I both necklaces, plain silver chain. Sam received a nice leather jacket and a pair of sunglasses. Both kids got a book of “dad coupons”, things like “one free cuddle”, and “Shopping!!!”

Natasha gave everyone money. The kids got $10. Bucky and I got $30. Sam and Clint both got $50. It wasn’t much but things were hard for her. Between kids and work she definitely hadn’t had enough time to go shopping.

Bucky and I bought our gifts together. Sam received a camera, the old kind that only took Polaroids. I had chosen Clint’s present, a new quiver and an armguard. Thank god for Bucky having a key to the florist we managed to get both kids a bouquet of red and purple flowers. We got Natasha a bunch of winter clothes because hers weren’t looking the best. So we gave her a few scarves, mittens, toques, and a jacket. I got Bucky a headband because his hair always falls in his eyes and I got him a sweater because he always complains of being cold. He got me a pair of gloves and a book called “Tattoo artistry”.

The kids also gave joint presents. We all got socks. Mine were striped, red, white, and blue. Bucky’s had different color stars. Natasha’s had cute little spiders. Sam and Clint’s both had pigeons on them.

Sam and Bucky went into the kitchen to make us breakfast. Natalia climbed up on my lap and started talking nonstop. I tried to answer some of her questions.

“When did you buy my present?”

“A while ago.”

“Why does Uncle Bucky only have one arm?”

“Some people are just like that. Like your daddy has hearing aids. Like I sometimes can’t breathe. It makes us special.”

“Can I be special like you?”

“Don’t worry. You are special.”

“Okay. I love you Uncle Stevie!”

“I love you too honey.”

*

Weeks passed, months really. Bucky moved in with me sometime around March. We babysat the twins on Saturdays so Nat and Clint could have date night. The shop gained popularity and I had lots of people taking the course I offered for those who wished to be a tattoo artist. Bucky slowly grew more comfortable with himself and come summer he wore short sleeves, and when he wasn’t at work he was barely ever wearing a shirt. Tony started talking to me again. He told me he had gotten some therapy and was doing better. The kids turned five. Life was good.

One day, while Tony was visiting, Bucky came over. We were going to have lunch at the coffee shop and he was picking me up. We told Jessie about us when Bucky moved in, thinking it would be easier to explain him being earlier every day. I had forgotten that Tony didn’t know.

“Hey, pretty Boy. Ready for lunch?” Bucky stood a ways away, grinning at me.

Tony looked from me to Bucky, face darkening rapidly. “I thought you weren’t dating. You wanted to be professional.”  
“Tony, that was just us.”

“You ASS!” He grabbed me by my hair and dragged me into the alleyway, a shocked Bucky stuck unmoving inside.

“Months,” He said, kicking me as I struggled to get up. “months, I couldn’t function properly because you broke my heart. And how long, how long have you and, and HIM? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN GOING AROUND WITH THAT CRIPPLED FLORIST PUNK? AND WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO MENTION IT? WERE YOU EVER GOING TO TELL ME I’D BEEN REPLACED?”

I had managed to stand but I couldn’t defend myself against the rain of fists and accusations. Tony managed to land one, a solid uppercut. I lost consciousness, the last thing I remember was his face, angry yet terrified.

*

“I DON’T CARE IF THERE ARE NO VISITORS I AM HIS BOYFRIEND LET ME THROUGH.”

“Sir, please calm down.”

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND I NEED TO MAKE SURE HE'S SAFE."

"Sir-!"

"He's all I h have, ma'am, please. You have to let me see him!"

"Sir, if you would calm down."

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Please may I see him?”

“Yes, but only for a minute.”

I saw Bucky sitting next to my bed.

“Hey Sunshine. What’s up?”

“You dick. You had me scared out of my mind. Tony drags you out of the shop screaming profanities and I rush out to him kicking the crap out of you  
in the alleyway. Then you stand up and I think you’re gonna be okay. I see you go down. Tony freaks out and you’re not moving.”

“Hey, hey Bucky. It’s okay. I’m right here and I’m not gonna go anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“Don’t.” He said, through tears.

I grabbed his hand and kissed it.

“Have they told you how long I’m here?”

“Not yet. They’re checking if you have a concussion and they’re worried about your jaw.”

“I’ll be fine. No one can get me down yet.”

“Okay baby, I have to go now. Get better soon. I can have Sam and Nat watch the store for you.”

“See you later Sunshine.”

He left and a nurse entered the room.

“Looks like you got beat up pretty badly. You have a fractured jaw and pretty impressive concussion.”

“When can I leave?”

“We need to wire your jaw and I’m assuming this isn’t your first concussion?”

“No.”

“Okay, so we need to keep you overnight just to make sure you didn’t get any long-term effects from the concussion. You can leave sometime tomorrow.”

“And how long after I leave do I have to have my jaw wired? When can I start working again? I can’t go long without work or I’ll lose customers.”

“First of all you need your jaw wired for at least a few weeks. Six to eight I’d say. You won’t be able to do any work for until your headache clears up and after that there will be a few weeks with no fine motor control.”

“Shit.”

“Don’t worry Sir. You have good health insurance and your Uncle said he could pay the bills.”

“My Uncle got dragged into this? Shit!”

*

I got released the next day. Uncle Fury picked me up and he spent the entire drive laughing at me and talking about how he ‘knew that Tony was trouble’. I was slightly pissed at him but I couldn’t talk and there was nothing to write on.  
Bucky was on his break when I got to the store and he greeted me with a hug.

“Hey pretty boy, how’s your head?” Shouted Nat from inside the store.

I didn’t reply. I couldn’t exactly talk anyway.  
When I walked in I was ambushed by Sam and Clint. Clint offered to teach me sign language for while I couldn’t talk and I was happy that I could nod to accept. Sam said that he never trusted that Tony and he should have kicked his ass before he landed one on me. Nat just hugged me and said she was glad I was okay.

It took a week of almost nonstop practise to get basic sign language but Clint said I was doing well and I could actually talk to people through Clint or Natasha. Apparently Clint was in the habit of taking his hearing aids out when Nat was mad at him so she learned sign language to continue yelling at  
him.

Sam wouldn’t stop beating himself up about it.

“It’s okay man, I had him on the ropes.” I signed.

“Man, shut the damn hell up. He would have beat your head in before he came to sense.”

Night was the worst. I almost got no sleep because Bucky had to wake me up every three hours. He learned enough sign language so that I could tell him I was fine and he could go back to sleep. It took me a long time to fall asleep again, the sight of Tony’s tortured face haunting me.  
He tried visiting once. Tony that is. Sam wouldn’t let him past the door but accepted his gift. A Polaroid camera with ink and photo paper refills and a  
small video camera. A note attached to them said,

“I’m sorry. I won’t try to visit again but please. Please make memories with these and whoever you chose to love.  
-Tony.”

I gathered my friends and took a picture. I took two actually. One to keep and one for Tony.

*

Tony never replied. Well, never personally. I received a note from Stark Industries saying that I had received and extension on my ownership of the building until 2017.

I never found out what happened to Tony. Every time I took a picture I sent it to him.  
One night, Bucky and I were cuddling. It had been a long day and we were both content to lie in bed and doze.

“Steve. What’s with the tattoo on your ribs?”

“It’s from a movie that I used to love.”

“You don’t anymore?”

“I grew up. I learned that my prince wasn’t going to rescue me and nothing can bring back the dead.”

“I’m sorry Baby. What movie was it?”

“The Princess Bride.”

“When did you learn no one would save you?”

“6 years old. My second foster home. Being beat to the ground by a drunk bastard and his shrieking wife.”

“And when did you start to save yourself?”

“18. When I didn’t look like a human being and started the day with a fifth of whiskey.”

“Oh baby. Steve I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine Sunshine. I can deal. We could watch it if you want.”

“I don’t want to make you sad but, yes I do want to.”

We watched it and I spent most of the movie sobbing into Bucky’s shoulder. When Buttercup pushed Westley into the gorge I looked up, giggling.

“I’ve always loved that part.” I said, through tears.

“Shh it was a big plot twist and you’re ruining it.”

“Sorry.” I said, ducking my head.

At the end of the movie we were both crying.

“Look at us. A punk and a florist, bawling their eyes out over a children’s movie.” Bucky remarked, chuckling.

“This movie has some deep shit and themes. Don’t tell me it was a kids’ movie.”

“You sound so pretentious. ‘Themes’ it’s totally a kids’ movie.”

“Shut up.”

“As you wish.”

“Just, don’t. I was four, living with my parents when this movie came out. It was a big deal, watching it in theatres. My mother spent the movie with her  
head on my dad’s shoulder. He never said ‘I love you’ to her. He only ever said ‘As you wish,’ even before the movie came out. Then he died. Fucking war. And she gets so depressed, her immune system fails and she’s gone too. I spent years, years believing that they would come back. Somehow, the commissioner got the report wrong, or the staff got the names mixed up. I waited for someone, anyone, to rescue me from this hellhole that was my life. Eighteen comes around, and I’m smoking on street corners, failed two grades and even Uncle Fury gave up on me. I get beat up, again. And I’m lying in the alley, wishing for someone to save me. But no one does. I get myself up, drag the broken thing that used to be my body home and I get myself cleaned up. But I don’t for a moment think that someone’s gonna save me.”

“Don’t be Buttercup then. Be Westley. Drag yourself back up, know you’re going to die tomorrow and live through the day. Don’t tell me your pain is worse because you endured it first but don’t you dare, even for a second think I‘m not gonna help you. I love you.”

“I love you too Bucky.”

“Now, let’s go to bed baby. You need sleep.”

*

Months, a year. I lost track of time. Days were hard, filled with complex tattoos and shouting down artists wanting a raise. Evenings and weekends we babysat the kids and hung out with Sam. Nights were spent with Bucky in my arms, watching a movie or enjoying each other’s bodies.  
It was my birthday, I was 27 and we were watching the fireworks. A huge barge anchored offshore housed over an hours’ worth of fireworks. Well, it would have if a few kids from Joe’s place hadn’t decided to, rewire, the firing sequence. Ten minutes of everything going fine until a simultaneous explosion of the rest of the fireworks. I was excited.

Bucky hadn’t shown up yet. Jessie called me and said that he was pulling a shipment of fresh roses in from uptown. He was supposed to meet me at the fireworks a few minutes before they started.

“Hey Nat, have you talked to Bucky?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah he said he was going to be a bit late but he’d be here.”

“Okay, where’s Clint, Sam, and the kids?”

“Right there.” She said, pointing.

I dropped to my knees to hug Bruce and Natalia.

“Hi Uncle Steve!!!”

“Hey guys! You excited for the fireworks?”

“Yeah!!!!” I picked up Bruce in a piggy-back and we walked back to my blanket.

Bucky was sitting there and he stood up to hug me.

“Hey, hey, hey Sunshine. Watch the kid.”

“You ready for some explosions!!!” He yelled to Nat.

“Of course!” She screamed back, putting Natalia down so she could run at Bucky.

Bucky picked Nat up in a hug, then bent down to kiss Talia on the forehead.

“Hey sweetheart, you wanna watch the fireworks with me?”

“Yeah!” Talia replied, climbing up into his arms.

We all sat down Nat leaning against Clint, Bucky holding my hand.  
About eight minutes in, Bucky grabbed my hand and forced me to stand.

“Bucky what the hell?” I demanded.

“Let me talk.” He replied, “Okay, I know you hate the lovey dovey ‘happily ever after’ shit. We all had fucked up things happen. Sorry for swearing. But I do love you, with all my heart. And I kind of feel like spending the rest of my life with you would be pretty awesome. Like, I could see myself, old and tired, watching a movie with you or telling shitty jokes. From the first time you crashed into me I couldn’t stop thinking about this dorky, clumsy punk. And it took you like five weeks to realise, but it took me longer. So I love you. Will you marry me?”

“Oh shit.” I paused, seeing his face fall. “I guess I have to return the ring I bought you.”

“Oh you punk, you gave me a heart attack. But that’s a yes right?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Yes! Of course. But one condition." I poked him once in the chest, smiling uncontrollably. "You have to get a tattoo.”

“I’ll do anything for you pretty boy.”

I pulled him off his knees and we kissed, right as the biggest explosion took place. Everyone around us cheered, screaming congratulations and curses at the sudden noise.  
Hours later, after Bucky actually put the ring on my finger, I dragged him home. He fell into me, kissing me so hard it took a long time to scramble for my keys and open the door. We feel into the apartment and up the stairs, kissing all the while. We fell onto the bed and immediately fell asleep.

*

The next morning I dragged myself out of bed, extremely hung over, and opened up the shop. I looked at the schedule and saw the first appointment was a James Buchanan Barnes.

“Bucky?” I yelled up the stairs.

“Yeah honey?”

“Is this you? Apparently you’re scheduled for a tattoo today.”

“Yeah, that’s me." He grimaced as he walked down the stairs. "I had Sam enter it before I went out to the fireworks.”

“Okay, but you don’t like needles?”

“Yes, but I like you.” He grinned and wrapped his arms around my waist.  
“You sap. What were you thinking of having tattooed? And where?”

“I was thinking I could get some roses on my forearm.”

“Left or right? And what color?”

“I have one arm, Steven. And I was thinking red and blue.”

We went to the stor computer and I pulled up some images and he picked one he liked. From there it took me no time to print out a stencil and get him started. Sitting him on the chair, I saw his brow furrowed, clearly worried.

“This is gonna hurt, okay baby? But I'll be here, and just tell me if you want to stop.”

“I know.” He said, teeth gritted. "But I trust you."

Sam wandered over and held Bucky’s hand while I started.  
After an hour or so of constant needles Bucky took a break. I kissed his hand and checked out the rest of the day’s schedule while he had some orange juice and a granola bar.  
I finished his tattoo in under two hours, a beautiful bunch of blue and red roses about the size of my palm, and then I sent him upstairs to take a nap and eat some more food. The rest of the day seemed to last weeks.  
I ran upstairs as soon as I convinced Sam and Nat to close up. Bucky was in the kitchen so I hopped up on the counter while he made tea.

“What’s the plan sunshine?” I asked.

“Clint’s going to take our engagement photos and then were going out for dinner with the guys.”

“We going to Joes?”

“Of course.”

He poured his tea into a travel mug and grabbed my hand. We walked down the stairs and met up with Nat and her boys.

“Where to, Clint?” Bucky asked.

“I was thinking we could go up to the roof and then over to Rockefeller. Maybe a few ones at Joes?”

“Sounds good. Thanks man.”

Sam opened the door and Bucky led me up the stairs. I was wondering at when Bucky organized all of this, he never seemed to talk to Clint unless I was there. We got up to the roof and Clint assumed a leading role. He directed us around and had Nat and Sam standing off-shot holding lights and reflectors.

“When did you learn all this?” I marveled.

“I pick up things. There aren’t many movie directors with 80 percent hearing loss so pictures are the next best thing.”

He had us do some shots with me hugging Bucky from behind, looking out at New York’s skyline with the sunset in our faces. As we walked down the stairs Clint made us stop in my apartment for two of us on the couch, one with me next to Bucky, holding hands and him resting his head on mine. Another with Bucky stretched out, his head in my lap, me staring devotedly into his eyes.  
At Rockefeller, Clint had us stand in front of the fountain, sharing a kiss. Another of us sitting on the marble ledge of the fountain, laughing at a joke Nat told us. A last one was of Bucky holding me, touching his forehead to mine, a gentle smile playing across his lips.

 

When we got to Joe’s, Clint let me look through the pictures. I hadn’t noticed, but he had been taking pictures of Bucky and me since our first date. I flipped through pictures, laughing at Bucky, asleep on my couch in one, drinking tea in another. He had one I couldn’t place. It was me sitting on a counter braiding back Bucky’s hair.

“Where’s this from?” I asked.

“That’s my house. You were babysitting. Maybe five weeks ago?”

“Okay, but I don’t braid Bucky’s hair.”

“Yes you do. Like all the time. You’re doing it now.”

I looked down and noticed I was. “What the hell?”

“I assumed you knew you were doing it. When you two are in a room together you are always connected somehow.”

Bucky stifled my wonderments with another kiss. “Pretty boy, you need to chill out. Let’s order food, I’m getting hungry?”  
He pulled a pleading look and I had to give in.

*

Wedding planning was hell. Sam was insane about the guest list and seating arrangements, not letting any table have all straight people or all be legally allowed to drink. Clint monopolized the flower arrangements and lighting, saying that since he was doing photos he should be allowed to control what the venue would look like. Nat booked us a DJ, reception hall, and herself, as the officiate.

“Where the hell did you get officiated?”

“Online, it takes ten minutes and five bucks for a certificate on fancy paper.”

Nat also booked us the rooftops of all the building surrounding my building. Apparently the ceremony and aisle were going to be on my building, with the guests on the surrounding rooftops.  
The date was set for Dec 21st. exactly two years after Bucky and my first date. The day before Sam pulled the, “It’s bad luck to be seen before the wedding,” shit and made me sleep at this place.

“Chill out flyboy, and why does Bucky get to stay at the apartment? It is still, technically mine.”

“Because I wouldn’t trust him to sleep without access to something that reminds him of you. And he has to look pretty for his wedding day!”

“You’re so full of shit.”

*

*Bucky POV*

 

I woke up at 2 in the morning, anxiety flooding my body. I grabbed my phone and pressed 1, speed dial for Steve.

“Hello?” He was sleepy. Oh god I woke him up does he hate me?

“Hey Steve. Sorry I woke you I just-“

“Bucky.” He sounded worried. “Baby is everything okay? Do you want me to come get you?”  
I can’t even do one night he must think I’m so pathetic.

“Yes. Wait no. I’m fine. You don’t have to come I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Just one more thing. Do you still love me?”

“Of course I do Bucky. I love you so much. I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some rest.”

“Okay. I love you Steve.”

“Goodnight Sunshine.”

He hung up.

I started crying. Weakly, bitterly. Tears that did not hurt as much as they reminded me of pain.

“Bucky, you okay?” It was Natasha. Her and Clint were sleeping on the couch and I guess I had woken her up.

“Yeah. Sorry did I wake you?”

“I kind of knew it would happen anyway. Do you want to talk about it?”

She padded into my room and sat on the end of the bed.

“I just. I had to make sure Steve still loved me.”

“Why would you- oh.” I guess Steve told her. “Bucky, I haven’t known Steve much longer than you but I know that you are the light in his eyes. I came up with ‘Pretty Boy’ for him, but he came up with ‘Sunshine’. Maybe that was because that’s what you are for him.”

“Thanks Nat.”

“Get some sleep. You can see him in the morning.”

“Okay.”

I managed to drift off after that. Repeating to myself; Don’t worry. He loves you. Get some sleep.

 

*Steve POV*

 

I woke up with Sam throwing a bundle of clothes at me.

“Wake up man. You have to get dressed and we need to get a move on.”

I showered and got dressed. The suit wasn’t much, black silk, white dress shirt, and a dark red tie.

“Why the red?” I yelled from the bathroom?

“It looked good with your tattoos”

I walked out of the bathroom and did a spin for Sam, sitting on his couch. He applauded and stood up to fix my hair.

“I know you don’t like staying still but could you just freeze. So I can fix the goddamned mop on your head.”

“It’s not that bad. Bucky likes it messy.”

“Yeah, but not messy like this.” He gestured to my hair. “Anyway, we have to go, so get in the car.”

It took twenty minutes with no traffic to get there. Nat was at the door with a blindfold.

“I have Bucky showering but I don’t want to take any risks.”

I groaned but let her blindfold me and lead me through my own house.

“Now sit, here” She grunted, pushing me onto the couch. “and don’t move until I tell you to.”

“Is Uncle Fury here yet?”

“Yes, don’t worry I have it all sorted out.”

I sat for about half an hour, quietly excited for the wedding to begin. I couldn’t get it through my head, I am marrying James Buchanan Barnes. The love of my life is standing on my roof about to marry me.  
Nat grabbed me and led me up the rest of my stairs. Once we got to the roof and pulled off my blindfold and ruffled my hair.

“Go get him, pretty boy.” She whispered, before walking down the aisle to take her place at the altar.

I saw Bucky, his hair falling into his eyes, wearing a suit that matched mine. Looking completely at home in the snow and sun.  
Uncle Fury grabbed my arm and led me down the aisle, walking to the tempo of the music. When we got to the end of the aisle he grabbed Bucky by the collar and growled,

“You gonna treat my boy well?”

“I would do anything for him, sir.”

“Don’t call me sir, I’m going to be your father-in-law.” Fury didn’t smile but, he was as close to one as I’d seen him.

Natasha cleared her throat and began. “Dearly beloved, I assume you know why we are here. These two lovebirds have been so annoying and finally decided to get married. Only TWO YEARS after their engagement. Anyway, I hope they wrote something to say and be all loving about.”

I cleared my throat.

“Clearly Steve wants to go first.”

“Thank you, for that impeccably romantic introduction.” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “Mawwaige, mawwaige is wot bwings us togetha, today. Bucky, I think you know that I don’t think of happily ever after that highly, but you make me believe. And this is going to sound cliché but I have literally loved you since our first date. You are my sunshine and, you might not always know it but I love you so much.”

The guests held their breath, waiting for Bucky to reply.

“Steve. I’ve said it all before. You are so, mine. Just. God, you are such a punk. You need to learn that you can’t win every fight and oh my god you have asthma please stop smoking.” He took a breath. “I get so mad at you but, I love you so much and. You love me right? Because even if you don’t you’re stuck with me. Because I’m with you, till the end of the line.”

 

Fin


End file.
